Pour the Port, Hold the Stodginess

It’s not a fancy bar, the place where I work, but we do carry port. Just one brand is enough for our purposes. In my nearly four years of working there, I’ve only seen one person order it: a middle-aged man who shows up maybe once every six weeks (on my shift, anyway; I suspect he comes at other times too), drinks three glasses and leaves.

Whenever these visits happen, it feels as if the whole tone of the bar gently transforms. Even the lighting seems to soften a bit and become warmer. I understand I’ll be pulling pints of Pabst soon enough, but for a couple of hours or so, while the port drinker is on the premises, the little pub feels older, more grown-up, not unlike a club, but without any unseemly elitism or membership dues.

I know, I know. Port has a whiff of empire about it, and that doesn’t sit well with every drinker. It has become something of a stock figure: a stodgy old man, a bit of a snob, the indignant, unknowing butt of a joke or two. You may have heard some variation of the old line that you cannot drink port before your 60th birthday, or before 10 p.m.

This, as a stodgy old man might say, is utter rubbish. Port is as good before dinner as after. And in truth, port, as we know it, isn’t even that old, as far as the history of drinking goes, dating back to the late 17th century. True port must come from the Douro region of Portugal, but the British played a huge role in its production and popularization. Port is red wine fortified with grape spirit — easy to drink and probably more versatile than you suspect. I think about port particularly at this time of year, because somewhere in the past decade, I got into the habit of serving it after Christmas dinner, with a great redolent chunk of Stilton and some very dark, good chocolate.

If you have a fine vintage bottle, you’ll certainly want to decant it and drink it as is. But with inexpensive ruby ports, which won’t have the complexity of most vintage ports but are often delicious nonetheless, I like to mix it up. If you’ve been making the same punch (or egg nog or mulled wine) for your seasonal parties year after year, maybe this winter you’ll try the recipe here for a quite strong, port-based punch. Not too sweet, but rich and spicy, it’s an easygoing crowd-pleaser and proof that port and orange get along famously.

Best of all is a port toddy, one of the great, largely unsung winter delights. Heaven knows I love my whiskey, hot or cold or at room temperature, but replacing it with port in a toddy leads to something surprising and special. I wouldn’t dare say there’s any science to support this, but to me, a port toddy feels somehow more curative than one with harder spirits: it’s like the alcohol-fortified equivalent of a bowl of homemade chicken soup.

Ultimately, port is just too gentle and comforting to be called stuffy. But don’t let me stop you if you happen to have a tufted leather wing chair, a brace of Cavalier King Charles spaniels and the diary of Samuel Pepys. These, too, go well with port.